


November/December Tumblr Drabbles

by Nutriyum_Addict



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Breastfeeding, Christmas Fluff, Couch Cuddles, Cute Kids, Elections, F/M, Food, Pajamas & Sleepwear, Parent-Child Relationship, Public Display of Affection, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-08-29 07:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8480767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutriyum_Addict/pseuds/Nutriyum_Addict
Summary: I wrote this on election morning :(Based on that Adam Scott "I voted" selfie.





	1. You Ran Over My Foot

“You ran over my foot!”

Leslie takes the paper dish from the food truck employee and turns around to look at her slightly out of breath boyfriend. No. _Fiancé._ Ben is her fiancé now.

“No, I didn’t!”

“You did,” he insists, seeming more amused than mad. “You saw the waffle truck and you just took off running. Right over my foot.”

Did she? Oh wow. Yeah, she probably did do that. It was all a blur after she spotted the now-familiar facade of her favorite DC attraction.

“Oh, babe, I’m sorry. You want some of my waffle sundae?” She holds the spoon out to him.

Ben sort of frowns and smiles at the same time, but lets her feed him the bite.

“ _Mmmmm_ , whipped creamy,” he manages to get out as he eats.

He’s grinning at her and there’s a bit of whipped cream near the corner of his mouth and Leslie just needs to kiss and lick it off–-even if they are right in the middle of the nation’s capital, politicians and lobbyists rushing around them.

It’s cool and sweet, a delicious contrast to Ben’s mouth which is all warm.

“Did I have some on my face?” He guesses.

Leslie nods and kisses him again. This time just because. Because she loves him with her whole heart and they’re getting married and she just met Joe Biden and because everything is absolutely, wonderfully, ridiculously amazing.

She just feels so incredibly lucky.

Ben must feel it too because instead of trying to tamp down her sudden need for a public display of affection, he just slides his palm down and squeezes her butt right through the material of her professional looking navy blue dress.

They kiss again.

“I love you and I like you. Even if you run over my foot trying to get waffles.”

She giggles. “I love you and I like you too. Always.”

There’s more kissing and Leslie even thinks she hears a passerby mutter, “ _get a room_ ” which, okay, fine, they’ll probably stop back at Ben’s place now and do just that.

They’re here to pack up his DC place anyway, so he can move back home to Pawnee and they can get married and love each other forever.

Oh, maybe they should invite Joe Biden to the wedding?

“We should not invite the Vice President to our wedding,” Ben says with a chuckle. He takes the sundae dish from her and she lets it go, too distracted with wondering how he knew what she was thinking to guard her waffle sundae properly.

“How did you…wait, did I say that out loud?”

Ben smirks. “You didn’t have to. You were making your _I’m thinking about Joe Biden_ face. I figured you either wanted to invite him to the wedding or get him a waffle sundae. Or…wait. Were you thinking about something dirty?”

“No! Of course not.” She kinda was thinking of something dirty too. “But, should we get him a waffle sundae? Do you think you could get us back in there–”

“No,” Ben cuts her off, still looking amused. “No. I think I used up my all my favors.”

Leslie watches as he takes another bite. This time he gets some waffle and ice cream. Ben makes an exaggerated lick of the spoon with his tongue, his eyes focused on hers.

He hands the dish back to her.

“So, I know you wanted to go to the portrait gallery next, but what if we go back to my place and take a little break first?”

Yep, she thinks, everything is absolutely, wonderfully, ridiculously amazing.

And she’s definitely about to get lucky.


	2. Trust me, I’m a doctor. Well, kind of, not really. I have Hello Kitty bandaids though

"Trust me, I’m a doctor. Well, kind of, not really. I have _Hello Kitty_ bandaids though!” Sonia told him excitedly, examining Ben’s left hand as he sat at the desk in his home office.

True to her word, his six-year-old daughter had a whole box of pink, cat-decorated bandaids. Wesley had a fake stethoscope (at least Ben thought it was fake?) around his neck and Stephen was holding a clipboard.

“Your butt is broken,” Stephen told him, pretending to make a note on his chart, before erupting into giggles.

Ben laughed at his son’s diagnosis. “Oh no, my butt? Really?”

“No, daddy. It’s your hand. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it,” Sonia said, pressing a bandaid over two of his knuckles.

All of his fingers got bandages while Wesley listened to his heart, by placing the stethoscope on Ben’s left knee.

It was late Wednesday afternoon, and really it was Ben’s favorite day-–the day he worked from home and got to spend some extra time with the kids all afternoon after they got home from kindergarten.

“Breathe, please,” his son instructed, managing to look fairly professional in his green glasses and dress-up lab coat.

Ben took an exaggerated deep breath while Sonia placed another bandaid on his chest, patted the spot, and said, “magic Hello Kitty power.”

“You need a new butt,” Stephen interjected. “We’ll schedule surgery. Nurse Pickle-nose, bring me my calendar!”

Ben made a face, hoping that Nurse Pickle-nose was not the neighbor’s dog. Again.

By the time his wife did get home a few minutes later, Ben was rolling around on the floor of his office with all three kids, tickling and covering each child with bandaids and kisses.

“Mommy!” Sonia shouted, trying to get up even as Ben hugged her around the middle and pulled her back down to the floor, “I’m a Hello Kitty Doctor! Kind of!”

“We’re fixing daddy,” Wes added before Ben attacked his little face with kisses.

Leslie smiled and laughed from the doorway, taking her Gryzzl pad out to capture the scene.

“Daddy needs a new butt!” Stephen told his mother.

“Wait? What now?”


	3. We can either just cuddle, or you can sleep on the couch?

“We can either just cuddle, or you can sleep on the couch?”

When she says it, Ben makes a confused face. They’d had sex for the first time the night before (and again this morning too–-they’d even showered together afterwards, and his hair still smells like her cinnamon bun shampoo) and now, after work, they’re back at her house again.

Of course, when he does have trouble understanding her words, Leslie’s looking right at him so she sees his puzzled expression.

He tries to cover it up quickly. “Yeah, sure. Um, yeah. Just cuddling’s cool.”

She stares at him for about five seconds before she dissolves into loud, cackling laughter. They’re sitting close enough on her couch that he can feel as well as see her obvious amusement and…now he’s even more confused.

“What’s happening?”

Leslie easily climbs into his lap and straddles him.

“Why would we _jus_ t cuddle? We had awesome sex here last night. We’re doing it again tonight. And you’re sleeping in my bed. Again.”

His hands go to her hips and he nods, giving her a smile and a light squeeze. “Yeah. Definitely. I knew that. I was just playing along. Who wants to just cuddle? Ugh.”

She’s giggling again and now he’s starting to laugh too.

“Oh, I totally had you. You thought I just wanted to cuddle. You’re so silly, Ben.”

“Well…” he starts to say something about all of this being so new, and that they don’t quite know each other that well intimately yet, and also that he definitely respects her authority on her body and what she wants to do with it…but before he can get too far with any of that, she’s unzipping his pants and sliding her hand into his boxer-briefs.

So instead, Ben just says, “awesome,” as Leslie wraps her palm around his dick.


	4. What would you do if you were locked in an elevator with me?

“What would you do if you were locked in an elevator with me?”

Ben closed his laptop for the night and looked at his girlfriend. “You mean stuck in an elevator with you?”

Leslie nodded, putting her BlackBerry to the side and away on the bedside table. It was only midnight, early for her to stop working, but he’d definitely take it.

“Yeah. Locked. Stuck. Say we were in an elevator, maybe a secret government elevator, and we got trapped during a lock-down.”

“Hmmmm, so is there some sort of high-level situation going on or is it just a casual trip in a secret government elevator?”

He watched as she struggled not to laugh at his question. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail like she did at night when she washed her face, and she was wearing a blue t-shirt to bed. Underneath the covers, Ben also knew she had on a pair of floral pajama pants.

“Aliens are attacking.”

He made a face. He did not expect that.

“Wait. No.That’s too serious,” Leslie backpedaled. “There’s a meeting in an underground bunker…about the Federal Reserve and the weekly data on the assets and liabilities of commercial banks. You’re on your way to lead it.”

“Ohhhh,” Ben grinned, moving closer and reaching out for her hip. “But that sounds fun. I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a nerd.” She rolled right over on top of him and he quickly moved his arm to accommodate her. She put her face close to his and repeated it in a whisper. “Nerd.”

“I’m the nerd? You’re coming up with what I’m guessing is a sexy scenario that involves us getting stuck in a secret government elevator.”

“Locked. Yeah, but you’re into it, right?”

“I’m into it, babe,” Ben nodded and smiled, stretching up to easily to capture her mouth with his. It’d been a frustrating day–losing their half-time ad spot at the station because she’d tackled him to the ground.

But afterward, they’d worked together to create something they both were proud of. And now, her weight on top of him felt so good. Much better than it had felt on the floor of the studio, struggling for control of the DVD.

Actually, it all felt great–even if they had a misunderstanding over her campaign ad or even if his mom emailed him all concerned after seeing an online article about his involvement in a sex scandal with a City Council candidate that led to his resignation.

Despite all of it…he was relaxed now. And happy. Honestly, it was probably the happiest he’d been, well, since ever.

Leslie stopped kissing and wiggling down on him. “If we were high-ranking political colleagues stuck in an elevator together, would you still have that for me?” Leslie asked, bringing his focus back to the present and her soft and curvy weight on top of him–as well as his growing erection.

“Definitely.” Ben nodded again and then closed his eyes when she reached down and touched him through the pair of boxers he’d planned on sleeping in. She was so warm at night, he found could sleep in a t-shirt and boxers most nights no matter how cold it was.

“My, what a big balance sheet you have, Mr. Fed Chairman,” she said with a light squeeze.

“The better to count and total all of your assets with, Madam President,” he managed to get out, even as she giggled and slipped her hand beneath the striped material.

Ben usually lost his ability to make convincing roleplay talk once she started touching his dick.

Not wanting to be at too much of a disadvantage, he started sucking on the skin of her neck (something that usually made her lose focus) and grinned against her skin when she moaned. Soon, his hand wandered down the back and inside her pajama pants to cup and fondle her butt. For all the attention she lavished on his backside, Leslie seemed to really like it when he touched her there as well. Even so, eventually he slid his hand down further, his fingers exploring between her spread thighs.

God, he loved it when she didn’t wear panties to bed. It made his access just that much quicker.

“You know what we should do now?”

“Um, let’s see. Fuck?” He gave her a slight smirk.

She giggled. “No. Well, yeah. That. But we should go in your closet because it’s more like an elevator.”

Ben frowned. “You want to have sex in my closet and pretend it’s a secret government bunker elevator?”

Leslie nodded, already up on her knees, his hand slipping out of her pants as she went.

Her shirt got pushed up during their brief make out session and he could see some skin near the waistband. He really wanted to kiss and lick the uncovered spot, eventually having her bounce on top of him but honestly, he’d be just as happy to have sex with her against the wall in his moderately sized closet.

If they pushed his clothes to the side, there’d probably be just enough room.

Yep. This was the goofball of a woman he’d chosen to love. And yeah, she needed to get a bit tougher in some ways, but really, Ben never, ever wanted her to lose her integrity or passion for doing the right thing.

Or her strange, sexy roleplay ideas.

“Alright, President Knope,” he agreed, getting up. “Let’s go do it in my secret government elevator closet.”

Ben grabbed her hand and led the way, but not before giving her a light swat on the butt first.


	5. November 8, 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on election morning :(
> 
> Based on that Adam Scott "I voted" selfie.

“Oh hey,” Ben looked surprised to see her at home during the day. “You got my text.”

She was standing just inside their front door, holding her phone out in front of her as a response, so he could see the image of himself sitting against their sofa, the red, white, and blue “I voted” sticker clearly on his Hillary Clinton t-shirt.

Leslie used her foot to slam the door shut.

That caused her husband to look a bit alarmed. “Um, babe? What’s happening now?”

Instead of answering, she just ran towards him. Ben’s eyes widened but when she ended up straddling his lap, he relaxed into an easy smile.

“Hi there.”

“YOU VOTED!”

Ben laughed. “Of course I voted. I told you I would make it to the polls later this morning. I just had that conference call earlier when you voted on your way to work. But, I wanted you to know for sure.”

“And you sent me a super sexy pic.”

Her husband nodded. “Yeah, alright, I kind of figured that would be the Leslie Knope equivalent of receiving a _dick pic_.”

Now it was her turn to laugh. “Oh! Hold on. Here’s a thought, what if we put the sticker on your–”

“No,” Ben interrupted gently. “That does not sound like a good idea.”

“No, you’re right,” she nodded, moving in for a kiss. “Oh wait, I just had an even better idea of what we could do to celebrate this momentous occasion.”

“Oh yeah?” He was still smiling at her. Smiling in a way that made it clear that Ben knew exactly what she was thinking. God, he just knew her so well.

And also, his Tuesday telecommute schedule was awesome.

“Are the kids napping?”

“Better. Your mom watched them while I went to vote. They’re still at Marlene’s,” Ben confirmed, starting to untuck her blouse.

“Let’s do this.” Leslie reached down to undo his jeans.

She had a meeting in about an hour, but sometimes a lady just had to rush home and jump her husband on Election Day.


	6. Leslie, Ben, and one teenage triplet watch a movie a Saturday night

**2030**

“Hold up, I think you’re forgetting about something,” Ben said, raising an eyebrow at his son.

Sixteen-year-old Stephen’s face took on a pained expression as he stood there in the middle of his bedroom. “Oh god, dad. I thought you were joking about that.”

“Nope.” Ben reached down and picked up the familiar sweater from the bed and tossed it to him. “You can be ungrounded for the night and watch the movie with me and mom but…sweater required to join in.”

“It probably won’t even fit.”

“Nice try, but it’s this year’s…it’ll fit.” As he said it, Ben looked down at his own matching holiday sweater.

It was bright red and had a Christmas tree surrounded by a lot of brightly wrapped presents on the front. They all had one. Wearing Knope-Wyatt matching holiday sweaters was a tradition going back to when the kids were babies. This year’s version was just as ugly as the previous years’ but, it made Leslie happy.

Honestly, it made Ben happy too.

Of course, lately, the kids were not quite as enthusiastic about the matching family sweaters. And it was weird, twenty years ago Ben would not have been very enthusiastic if someone had told him this would be a family tradition of his…but now? He couldn’t imagine a holiday where he didn’t wear a goofy Christmas sweater along with his wife and kids, at least once or twice during the season.

Back while she was pregnant, Leslie had knit little matching holiday onesies, then the next year, she had gotten sweaters for the whole family. After that, it had snowballed into a full-on Holiday Event every year while decorating the tree, while watching a movie, while making pancakes. Until recently, his wife and children did not need much of an excuse to put on their sweaters.

But then, the teen years hit.

Tonight, while his brother and sister were out at a party with friends, Stephen was grounded (when would the boy learn that he was about was sneaky as his mother? Ben wondered), and had faced an evening in his room without his Gryzzl pad, phone, or his Chipotle-Exxon visor.

At the last minute, even though his own plans for the evening had included cuddling The Sexiest Governor in the United States on the sofa all evening, Ben had felt a little bad about banishing their son to his room. A comprise was offered–relaxed grounding rules for the evening if he wanted to watch a movie with his parents in the living room.

Making Stephen wear his Christmas sweater in order to leave his room was just for extra fun.

He watched as his son pulled the sweater down over his t-shirt. Yep. It fit perfectly and looked ridiculously festive.

“Hey, here’s an idea–maybe we can take some photos to send your brother and sister at the party so everyone can see how much fun they’re missing here.”

Stephen’s eyes widened in panic. "Dad! Noooooo!“

Ben couldn’t keep up his serious face any longer and started laughing. “Relax. I’m just messing with you. Come on. Movie’s about to start.”

He clapped his arm around Stephen’s shoulder and steered him down the stairs and towards the living room. They weren’t even all the way to the sofa when Leslie saw them from the kitchen.

“Ohhhhhhhhh! Stephen! You’re wearing your sweater too!”

Of course, his wife was wearing her own red sweater and she rushed over, shoving the bowl of popcorn at Ben, before enveloping Stephen in a big hug.

“Yeah. Um, I thought it would be a nice touch to put the ol’ sweater on for the movie tonight. You know, make a whole night of it with the ‘rents.” Stephen paused for a second and then added, “You know, parents. ‘Rents. That’s you guys, I–”

“Yeah. We get it,” Ben confirmed, rolling his eyes just a bit at Stephen’s revisionist history (and also the whole ‘rents explanation), but when he saw his wife’s happy smile, he didn’t really care who got credit for the sweater.

“You can definitely watch our double-feature of _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ followed by the seasonal classic, _A Christmas Story_!” Leslie told him. “It’s Thanksgiving weekend! Even if you are grounded for two more days.”

He and Leslie shared a smile at that–they always tried to have each other’s back and be consistent when it came to who was grounded and for how long.

Stephen turned the lamp by the sofa off and they all got comfy, Leslie in the middle. There was popcorn with Holiday Salgur 2.0 (Wesley invented a mix a few years ago that included a couple of shakes of red pepper flakes and cinnamon along with the salt and sugar), and _Rudolph_ was all ready to go and cued up.

Sure, it wasn’t the romantic evening alone with Leslie that Ben had originally envisioned, but this was still a very enjoyable time with his wife and son.

And for how much Stephen tried to push back on the sweater, Ben could tell he was having just as much fun as his mother was. They said the dialogue right along with the characters, they broke into holiday songs during the slow parts, they ate most of the popcorn.

All of his children shared Leslie’s completely un-ironic love of festivities…and Ben loved being part of it.

“Hey, babe, why don’t we have a leg lamp? It could go right here in the living room,” Leslie said, as she turned towards him.

“Oh yeah, dad!” Stephen echoed. “We really need _A Christmas Story_ leg lamp.”

He nodded slowly, before helping himself to the final handful of popcorn from the bowl in Leslie’s lap. “Alright.”

Someone made this suggestion every year, but thankfully it was usually forgotten by New Year’s.

Towards the end of _Rudolp_ h, the empty bowl got put on the coffee table and Ben and Leslie started holding hands. By the time _A Christmas Story_ was half over, she was cuddled up close to him, one leg stretched over his.

Ben started rubbing his thumb along her knee and soon Leslie’s head was on his shoulder.

“Oh my god, gross.”

“What?” Leslie’s head lifted up.

“You two,” Stephen responded, before reaching over and turning the non-leg lamp on. “We’re watching a wholesome Christmas movie and you’re…snuggling. Like that. Haven’t you been married for about twenty years?”

“Hey, it’s our couch, we can snuggle if we want to,” Ben said, giving Leslie’s leg a squeeze. “And we’ve been married almost eighteen years.”

“I think I should sit in the middle. You two need a chaperone.”

While his wife started laughing, Ben made a face. “No, I think we’re good. Turn the light back off.”

“God no. You’re probably going to start kissing soon.”

Leslie sat up a bit straighter, turning towards Stephen, “Honey, there’s nothing wrong with kissing. And sometimes when you are very attracted to someone, you just want to–”

“Smoosh faces with them,” Ben added. “Even if you’re watching a movie with your son who is grounded because he tried to sneak home after curfew, but stopped in the kitchen to make cupcakes before going up to his room.”

“I was hungry!”

“Uh-huh. No, that makes perfect sense,” Ben deadpanned and then tried again. “Get the light, please.”

Stephen sighed and switched the lamp off again, but then he stood up and took his sweater off and placed it on the couch. “I officially re-ground myself to my room. But before I go, I just want to remind you two that you’re on a family couch.”

“That we made a family on,” Leslie joked. Then she held up her palm. Ben slapped it.

“OH MY GOD! THAT’S DISGUSTING!” Stephen yelled and then practically ran up the stairs.

“Yeah, okay, it’s not…that old of a couch,” Ben mumbled after his son.

“Oh right, it was the _other_ couch,” Leslie said, grinning at him.

Ben nodded. “Now that was a very good couch.”


	7. I Don't Know Why I'm Crying

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” She whispers it out loud because she knows that Ben has come up behind her, to where Leslie is sitting on the edge of their bed nursing Sonia.

She doesn’t know why she’s crying again because it’s not like this is a new thing. The babies are two months old and she’s been breastfeeding constantly it seems, since they were born. And yeah, in the beginning, she got very emotional whenever one of the triplets did anything new–-the first time a baby got gas, the first diaper changes, the first baths in their kitchen sink.

It’s all been documented in about five scrapbooks already.

So this should just be any other Thursday night, with a parade of at least two babies latched on, while Ben tends to the third with a bottle of pumped milk.

It started that way tonight but then, as she was sitting here and while Ben got Stephen and the Wesley nestled back down in their cribs, Leslie realized that she could be breastfeeding a future President of the United States.

Or an archaeologist. Or an Olympic medalist. Or a famous mystery novelist.

Ben settles behind her on the mattress and she leans back against him and they both watch as tiny Sonia does her thing with Leslie’s nipple. Her husband’s face is near her neck and she can feel the light scruff there. New father Ben is a lot like unemployed Ben–-but with less claymation.

“Hey, if you keep crying, there’s a really good chance that I’ll start crying too.”

Leslie smiles at his words, even as more tears roll down her cheeks. They both have spent a good amount of time happy crying lately.

“She’s just so perfect. They all are.”

“Yeah. They’re our perfect, amazing babies. Team Knope-Wyatt.”

“Team Knope-Wyatt,” Leslie repeats.

Ben wraps his arm around her and moves his hand towards Sonia so she can grasp onto his finger.

“I can’t believe…I mean…I’m making food. That’s insane that I can do that. I make my children’s food,” Leslie says, still teary-eyed and incredulous as she watches Sonia feed herself.

“I really like your packaging,” he says, snuggling into her bit more. “It’s awesome. It’s functional and very sexy too. It’s all _coolio boobs_ , hot mama. Good lord. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so tired.” With that, Ben rests his head fully down on her shoulder.

Leslie laughs-cries at it all. It’s just so amazing to be here, in this completely perfect moment–-her warm and very sleep-deprived husband behind her, her daughter in her arms. Her beautiful sons just down the hall.

It’s so much more than she ever knew she even wanted.


	8. You Weren't Supposed to Hear That

Ben watched as his thirteen-year-old son read from the cookbook, while also doing as it instructed.

“Seal the edges by crimping the fork–-aw, _shit_.” Wesley said, as the tomato sauce leaked through the dough’s edge. Then his eyes widened and he looked at his father. “Sorry! You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Ben grinned from his spot a couple of feet away. “It’s okay, son. That happens to everyone the first time. Just keep going,” he said patiently, deciding to not mention Wesley’s language slip.

After the trip to the emergency room a couple of months ago for stitches, Ben decided that he should just work with Wes on his knife skills in the kitchen. Since then, they’d spent Sunday afternoons together, making dinner for the whole family. And honestly, it was one of the highlights of Ben’s week.

With his and Leslie’s busy jobs and all the kids’ school responsibilities and extra-curriculars, it was always a struggle to find the time to plan one-on-one activities with the triplets. But this time with Wesley was so rewarding.

Not only was the boy discovering how much he really did like to cook (just like his dad, Ben thought proudly), but they also got to spend the time talking and joking around. And not for the first time, Ben realized how lucky he and Leslie were to have such kind, funny, and talented kids.

Maybe it was time to get Wes his own personalized apron?

Today, though, was special. He and Wesley were making calzones.

The teen had chopped mushrooms and sauteed spinach under his father’s watchful eye. They made the dough together and now Wesley was taking over the filling and the crimping.

It was the trickiest step in the whole process. He’d allow a little foul language.

“Hey, what’s going on in here?”

Both father and son turned around to see the Governor of Indiana step into the kitchen.

“Wes is making calzones for dinner,” Ben announced. “And he’s doing a great job.”

“Oh…great. That is great!” Leslie managed to get out.

She looked enthusiastic for their son’s sake, but Ben knew she probably was not quite as on-board with the dinner plan as she was trying to project.

Almost fifteen years of marriage and he had not quite converted her into a true calzone-lover.

Leslie peered over Wes’s shoulder as he worked. “What kind?”

“Spinach and mushroom!” The boy answered with excitement, starting to crimp calzone number three expertly. “We’ll also have a salad.”

Ben tugged his wife back by the hand and trapped her in a big bear hug, her back to his front. He kissed the side of her head and whispered, “I’ll make you a snack without vegetables later.”


	9. Please Just Leave

“Please just leave.”

“But—“

Ben sighed and tried again. “This isn’t working. Leave. Please?”

“I really think if you’d just—“

“Nope.” Ben started undoing the snaps on the…he wasn’t even quite sure what this was. A sleeping jumpsuit?

Adult-size footie pajamas?

He wasn’t sure how he got talked into trying it on in the first place, either. Leslie saw it on the hanger, quickly grabbed his hand, and started leading him towards the back of the store before he even knew what was happening.

It was all kind of a blur to be honest.

The dressing room was small and now Leslie was standing really close to him. So close that he could smell her vanilla-scented lotion as she tried to resnap the snaps up the front just as fast as Ben tried to undo them, so that he that could change back into his clothes.

“Come on…it’s sexy.”

Ben stared incredulously at his wife. “This is sexy? This?”

He looked in the mirror again. Yep. He still looked like a dork in old-timey, red flannel footie pajamas.

“ _Mmmmmhmmmmm_. _Sexxxxxxxxxxy._ ”

This was the woman that he had chosen to love and then marry just eight months ago. A wonderful and passionate goofball that sometimes seemed to have an interesting interpretation of the word sexy.

“What I’m wearing right now? This is doing it for you?”

Leslie nodded and moved even closer. She leaned in and almost kissed him, smiling as her nose touched his.

“Babe, I guarantee you that these pajamas are super sexy and the best part is…”

Ben felt her reach around in back and unsnap something.

“There’s a secret opening back here for your butt!“

“Oh my god.” He didn’t know what else to say so he just started laughing. He still had his boxer-briefs on underneath, but it tickled when she grabbed his ass. “Seriously? You want me to buy this? Because you think it’s hot? And because you can unsnap it in back?”

She started giggling. The kind of giggling that was all low and throaty and filled with innuendo. The kind of giggling that definitely made his dick start to get interested in the current situation. And his dick did not really care if he looked like an idiot as long as Leslie made noises like that.

“What if I get a pair too?” She asked. “Then we’ll have matching winter pjs and we can cuddle around the house and—“

“Will yours have the opening in back also?”

She gave him a flirty smile and nodded slowly again, as she inched even closer.

Then Leslie brushed her lips against his and sure…the pajamas were completely 100% ridiculous. Without a doubt, they were the dorkiest, silliest thing that he’d ever tried on. But if his wife wanted them to get weird matching footie pajamas, well, who was he to argue?

Especially if all he had to do was undo hers in back and he could touch her butt (and other parts) as well.

Ben groaned as she pushed against him, causing him to back up into the flimsy dressing room wall with a loud thud.

The thud did not go unnoticed. “Hey! Is everything okay in there?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Ben answered the store employee hastily. “Um, hey, can we get a women’s size small to try on too?“


End file.
